


You Don't Know Me

by DramioneConvert



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Hermione Granger, Draco sings!, F/M, Hogwarts: A History, Michael Buble - Freeform, Not Epilogue Compliant, Ray Charles, Reformed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Well-Dressed House Elves, Witty Banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10873191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneConvert/pseuds/DramioneConvert
Summary: After the war, Draco has started a new life, but Hermione is so sure of what she thinks she knows about him that she almost doesn’t see it. How much must she learn about the grown-up Draco before she comes to know who he really is? Inspired by the song of the same title.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the Michael Bublé version of “You Don’t Know Me.” I realize that didn’t come out until 2005 so Draco and Hermione couldn’t have heard that one at the time of this story, but Ray Charles did the original in 1962 so lay off me, people! :-) This story is complete, but I will post the remaining chapters over the next few days. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my amazing beta and friend, HermioneJeanWayne! You’re way better at this than me, but it’s so much fun to do together anyway. 
> 
> I don't own anything - the song or the book characters - I just enjoy playing in their world.

*~May 2nd, 1999~*

 

The first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts hit Hermione Granger hard. For all the years she’d been a witch, she couldn’t find anything that soothed her better when she was upset than a hot bubble bath with her favorite book followed by a cold pint of ice cream. Thankfully, the day had been declared a national, magical holiday, and though she usually brought her Ministry work home with her, she put off even that for today. Today was a day for reflection - for mourning the dead - for ruminating on what all she had lost and gained from the war - so she spent the day lost in her thoughts and drowning her sorrows the muggle way. Nothing wrong with that.

 

*~November 2nd, 1999~*

 

“You want _me_ to take over as Draco Malfoy’s probation liaison?!” Hermione asked incredulously. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Malfoy and I have...a rather long history, and if he’s trying to move on with his life, I don’t think he’ll be very happy to see me.”

 

“Wasn’t it you who stood up for him at his trial?” fellow Auror Albert Jones asked her.

 

“Yes, Harry and I both did, but…” Hermione began before her coworker cut her off.

 

“Exactly - you’re the reason he stayed out of Azkaban and only had to serve 6 months of house arrest followed by 18 months of probation. I’ve checked in on him every month so far, and he hasn’t given me any trouble.”

 

Hermione looked dubious. With a sigh, Albert continued, “I know his personality isn’t the best.” Hermione snorted. “But he really is working hard to be a productive member of society and make a name for himself aside from his family’s dark past. I’m sure he’s certainly appreciative of your testimony on his behalf. Besides, he only has 6 more months.”

 

Hermione frowned at Albert, the man who interviewed her, hired her, and guided her since she came to work in the Laws and Regulations Office of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She didn’t take this job to be a magical babysitter for former junior Death Eaters. She wanted to change the world – make it better for marginalized groups such as Muggle-borns and misunderstood creatures like house elves. This was definitely NOT in her job description under normal circumstances, but there was nothing normal about the aftermath of the Great Wizarding War. The Wizengamot had spent months rounding up and prosecuting the Death Eaters, and her department was tasked with keeping watch of the few who didn’t get sentenced to Azkaban.

 

After Voldemort’s defeat, Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts long enough to sit for her NEWTs before she took this job at the Ministry of Magic to rebuild and improve the magical world. Albert had been a wonderful mentor to her, and she knew this was the last task between him and a life of leisure so she finally relented. He was looking quite nervous as he fiddled with the hem of his robes. Though she was widely known as the “Brightest Witch of Her Age,” she knew she also had a bit of a reputation for being feisty and outspoken, and Albert looked mildly frightened at how she might respond. No one makes change without stepping on a few toes, she thought… Shaking her head and pursing her lips, she said, “Okay, Albert. Leave me his case file.”

 

*~November 15th, 1999~*

 

From studying Malfoy’s file, Hermione found that he had indeed served his 6 months of house arrest at Malfoy Manor without incident. He even used the time wisely to catch up on what he had missed while fighting a war (albeit on the opposite - read: wrong - side) and sit for his NEWTs as soon as he could leave the premises. Instead of taking over his father’s many entrepreneurial pursuits, he had struck out on his own and been hired by a top magical advertising firm located in Diagon Alley. Lucius was in Azkaban (where he belonged) and a team of financial and legal wizards were left to run the Malfoy family businesses.

 

Hermione paused a minute outside the Malfoy heir’s corner office on the top floor to take some calming breaths and buck up her Gryffindor courage. She tried to smooth her frizzy hair and shake some of the nerves out of her hands. Finally, she decided she was a war heroine, for Merlin’s sake, and she could handle one spoiled, arrogant prat. She gave two short raps on the door and waited for his curt, “Come in.”

 

She drew herself to her fullest height and stepped inside. Malfoy still had his head bent over his desk so she took a moment to glance around his office. Framed ads from recent campaigns she recognized hung on the walls, and she decided to ignore the tiny notion to be impressed by his work.

 

“It took you long enough. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he said, still without looking up. She marched a few paces closer and was opening her mouth to inform him she could conduct her visits whenever she damn well pleased when he looked up with a casual smile.

 

She stopped in her tracks, and the smile fell right off his face. Shock replaced it, and after a few awkward moments of staring at each other, he finally blurted, “Granger, what are you doing here?”

 

Hermione jutted out her chin. “I’m your new Probation Liaison. Auror Jones has retired.” Apparently, her good friend, Albert, hadn’t bothered to let his charge know of this update.

 

Horror replaced shock on Malfoy’s face. He hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded a lot like, “fuck me.”

 

Hermione grinned like the Cheshire cat, satisfied he was as nonplussed to see her as she was with this ridiculous assignment, but she should have wiped that look off her face sooner. After he’d recovered and raised his head to look at her again (read: catch her in the act of enjoying his discomfort), his distraught features instantly transformed into the Malfoy smirk Hermione remembered so well from their years at Hogwarts.

 

“I would have thought you’d be out clothing house elves and having tea with giants rather than magical babysitting,” he drawled and reclined back in his chair with his hands behind his stupid, blonde head, obviously satisfied with his taunt, Hermione thought.

 

She sat supremely on the edge of one of his overstuffed green and silver visitor chairs and smiled at him sweetly. “I’m not surprised at all to see what _you’re_ up to - using that silver, forked tongue like the snake you are to entice people to your will.”

 

Malfoy barked a harsh laugh, and kicked his feet up on his desk. “Now, Granger - is that any way to speak to one of your esteemed clients? If you don’t watch out, I might just fire you and demand another liaison.”

 

“Would you really, Malfoy?!” she exclaimed with feigned excitement. “I’m sure Ron or Harry would jump at the opportunity to breathe down your neck for the next 6 months.” This was an idle threat as the other two members of the Golden Trio worked in a different office, but Malfoy didn’t have to know that...

 

At that, Malfoy looked visibly less smug and dropped his arms to cross in front of his chest. He shrugged his shoulders. “My, my, the Ministry certainly is lacking in qualified talent these days. I suppose I’ll stick with you if the Chosen One and the Weasel are all they have to offer me.”

 

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “Goody,” she said flatly. And before he could continue with his obnoxious snark, she launched into her Ministry speech. “Mr. Malfoy - it is my duty to inform you that you are now entering the final 6 months of your probationary sentence. As your liaison, I will continue to check in with you at least monthly. Our department will continue to closely monitor your travels, your vault at Gringott’s, and your social interactions. If you give me any cause to question whether your Dark allegiances are completely gone, I will be forced to report my findings to the Wizengamot and recommend they extend your sentence. Have I made myself clear?” She gave him a tight-lipped smile.

 

“Crystal,” he said quietly through clenched teeth, his gray eyes staring coolly at her.

 

“Excellent,” she said as she stood to go. “Please owl me a list of any potential travel plans and any social engagements for our perusal. See you in December.”


	2. Chapter 2

*~December 15th, 1999~*

 

As much as Hermione loved homework, she was not excited about reading through the dossier of Draco Malfoy that sat ominously on the edge of her desk for the last week. She had put it off until the morning of their scheduled visit, but she knew the bell was finally tolling for her. She started with what she thought would be the easiest and least personal component – looking over his financials. When she opened the file, her mouth fell open most unattractively. She knew the Malfoys were wealthy, but nothing could have prepared her for the figures she saw on the parchment in front of her. She could practically see Malfoy smirking down at her and her obvious shock. She skimmed through the statements quickly and cast them aside as if they might bite her.

 

She moved on to the travel plans and was surprised to find them blank. Didn’t people with more money than Merlin portkey off to some Greek isle for the holidays? She pulled out the social plans. She was sure she’d find a long list of pureblood parties and high-brow, high-society events, but it was empty, too. Confusion and curiosity warred in her brain. Admittedly, she hadn’t paid much attention to the Social Section of the Daily Prophet since her own face graced the pages far too often for her liking, but she was sure the Malfoys were still enterprising, networking, socialites.

 

She summoned the latest copy of the Prophet which lay still-folded on her mailbox. She searched for the distinguishing platinum blond hair, but it was nowhere to be found. She purposely avoided the picture of herself under the small headline, “War Heroine Attends Ministry Christmas Ball Alone Again.” Damn that infernal busybody, Rita Skeeter. Maybe she needed another stay in Hermione’s glass jar…

 

Though Hermione never found so much as a mention of Draco, she saw his mother, Narcissa, listed several times attending various charity functions as a benefactress. She made a mental note to start checking out the Prophet more – this was part of her work assignment, of course, not a personal quest into the life of her former nemesis. Her research must be thorough.

 

After she had procrastinated as long as she could, she floo’d to Malfoy’s office building. She felt the same nerves wash over her as before and found herself taking some calming breaths outside of his office door again. As she raised her hand to knock, the door flew open to reveal its occupant. Hermione let out a startled gasp and jumped back. Malfoy snorted and leaned against the door frame. He crossed his arms and one leg casually, the picture of nonchalance. “Merlin, Granger. Did I scare you? What happened to all that Gryffindor courage?”

 

She gained back the distance she’d lost and went to stare him in the eyes but was surprised to find they were higher than she expected. When had he gotten so tall? She guessed having the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders might do that for a person. She looked over his face and though his usual smirk was in place, there was no hatred behind it. When had he gotten so handsome? She shook her head to clear that errant thought away and almost muttered his sentiment from their last meeting.

 

She had to respond, but she was so flustered, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Malfoy seemed to realize this because his smirk turned into a grin as he regarded her. Infuriatingly, before she could think of a retort, he spoke again. “Did you come here for my probation update or just to stare at me all day?”

 

She bristled. “Of course not! I do actually have a real job, you know, not just dropping in on you once a month!”

 

“Of course,” he responded with mock sincerity. “Please come in.” He swept his long arm in front of her in a grand gesture of welcome. She rolled her eyes at him.

 

Hermione sat down and mentally chided herself to get her shit together. She was acting like a bloody fool. “How have things been going since our last meeting?” she began primly, her quill erecting itself over some parchment, ready to record her notes.

 

“Fine,” came Malfoy’s cool reply from across the desk. He still wore the stupid grin. “Could you be a little more specific?” Hermione snapped. The corners of his mouth hitched a little higher. “Could _you_ be a little more specific, Granger?” He was really enjoying being obtuse. “You’ve no doubt done your homework like the good little bookworm you are so what else could you possibly want to know about me?” He winked at her. Why did she let him get under her skin? How did he alone have the ability to rattle her with just the set of his lips? And why was she looking at his lips anyway?!

 

“Well, what did you talk about with Albert then?” she huffed haughtily.

 

“Mostly quidditch,” he replied, and the grin became a full out smile, knowing how much she enjoyed that topic of discussion. Hermione snorted. Draco laughed. “Well, it was nice having this chat with you, Granger…” he stood to walk her out.

 

He seemed to be under the mistaken impression that he could scare her off with sports talk. She was not about to let him off that easy! She’d spent several hours reviewing his files and taken the time to travel to his office. This meeting would be worthwhile!

 

“Why don’t you have any plans for Christmas submitted?” she blurted out. Malfoy stopped in his tracks, and a shadow of confusion then hurt then calmly schooled nothing covered his face. He sat back down slowly and steepled his fingers, searching her face. After what seemed like hours, he finally spoke. “With Father in Azkaban and all the horrors we witnessed under our own roof during the war, Mother and I don’t feel very festive this time of year,” he said softly.

 

Hermione was shocked – at his obvious pain and at his honesty. Stupidly, she continued this line of questioning. “But shouldn’t you be hosting and attending a variety of pureblood social gatherings?”

 

At this, Malfoy’s face contorted into something more along the lines of anger…or disgust. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Granger, but the Malfoy name isn’t exactly what it used to be. Your side hates us for being Death Eaters, and the Death Eaters hate us for our lack of devotion… And, of course, there’s the fact that most of our former friends are either dead or locked up anyway so it doesn’t matter.” A few moments passed where they just stared at each other, and then his face slowly softened. “I never thanked you for what you did for us. Potter’s testimony kept my mother from being sentenced, and you both spoke on my behalf, keeping me out of Azkaban. Thank you for that.” He looked a little uncomfortable with this admission, but he set his jaw and held her eyes.

 

Hermione gaped at him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, well…” she finally began. “You were just a child. You didn’t deserve to go to prison. And Harry told me how Voldemort would have killed your parents if you hadn’t accepted his… assignment…Besides, warning us after the World Cup right before Fourth Year and not identifying us that day at Malfoy Manor probably saved my life both times. I don’t know why you did that, but I’m thankful you did.” Now, it was Malfoy’s turn to gape at her with a reddened face.

 

A few more awkward moments passed, and Hermione broke their stare to pack up her things. Rising to go, she said, “Thank you, Malfoy…for your honesty.”

 

They both rose from their seats as he walked her towards the door. “Any time,” he said. “And Granger?”

 

“Yes?” she turned to face him and was startled at how close they were.

 

“Call me Draco?”

 

She blinked up at him and studied his face. He was clinching his jaw again and working to keep his gray eyes steady on hers. She was surprised to recognize this demeanor as nervous now rather than hostile as she’d always assumed. She smiled at the thought. “If you’ll call me Hermione.”

 

He smiled back. “Thank you, Hermione.”

 

“You’re welcome, Draco.”


	3. Chapter 3

*~January 15th, 2000~*

 

It had been a weird month. Ever since her last meeting with Draco, she couldn’t stop thinking about him and what his life must be like now. She respected the fact that he’d obviously changed and grown a lot since their days at Hogwarts, but she was terribly curious to know exactly why and how.

 

It didn’t help at all when she walked into her office on Christmas Eve to find a green present with silver ribbon sitting on her desk. After running a few diagnostic spells on it to make sure it wasn’t cursed (she was an Auror after all), she decided it was safe to open it. When she tore back the thick paper, she found the 500th Anniversary edition of her favorite book, Hogwarts: A History. The highly-anticipated text had just come out recently, and she’d been looking forward to buying it soon with her Christmas bonus. Inside the front cover was a small card of stationery with the initials “DLM” at the top. Her breath caught in her throat. A short note in perfect script read, “I know spending time with me is present enough, but I figured you couldn’t wait to get your hands on this either. Happy Christmas, Hermione. ~Draco”

 

No, that definitely hadn’t helped her push him out of her mind. What exactly did he mean by that “either” anyway?! Was he actually flirting with her? She must really be losing her mind. The holidays provided a worthy distraction, but he was always there, lurking in the shadows of her thoughts.

 

She spent Christmas day with her parents, so thankful to have them and their memories back after the war. On Boxing Day, a house full of Weasleys at the Burrow replaced blond headed thoughts with red headed ones, but she had to admit that the last two weeks of waiting to see him again had been excruciating. She had so many questions to be answered!

 

Hermione had to admit to herself that she was a little nervous about her next meeting with Draco. Okay, she was more like scared shitless… and it had nothing to do with being on a first name basis or favorite books. The Ministry required that all probation meetings happen on the 15th of the month. The purpose was to give the Auror the opportunity to view the individual in his natural habitat, his everyday life, no matter what day of the week that fell on. This was supposed to give a more realistic picture of whether the person was indeed reformed or not.

 

This month’s date happened to fall on a Saturday. Draco wouldn’t be at work. She’d be visiting him at home… Malfoy Manor… the site of her torture, and one of the scariest days of her life. She was a nervous wreck the morning of the visit. She spent two hours getting ready, fretting over what to wear, how to calm her frizz ball of a head of hair, should she wear make up…She was a jittery mess, and was legitimately afraid she would splinch herself when she apparated.

 

Thank Merlin, she arrived in one piece. As she turned to stare at the huge, formidable gates blocking access to the stately home behind them, she suddenly remembered one of her favorite movies growing up, The Sound of Music. She realized she was Maria – the homely, poor girl who was way out of her league visiting the Von Trapps’ home. Someone must have seen her staring because without notice, the gates began to open. She tentatively took a few steps and then practically ran by the gates like she was afraid they would try to close on her.

 

She gave herself a Gryffindor pep talk all the way down the long drive to the house. She rang the bell and looked down at the well-dressed house elf who opened the door.

 

“You must be Miss Granger,” squeaked the little elf, and Hermione nodded dumbly. “My name is Daisy. Mister Draco is waiting for you in the sunroom.” Hermione managed to push out a thank you and followed Daisy inside. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead as they walked past the front parlor and suppressed a shiver.

 

When they reached their destination, Hermione stopped in her tracks. The sunroom looked out over the gardens, and the sight of all the flowers charmed to bloom year-round took Hermione’s breath away. Draco stood as she entered and gestured to the seat across from him at the small table in the middle of the room. “Good morning, Hermione. Since this month was a home visit, I thought we might conduct our meeting over tea,” he said as she sat. “Sugar?” he asked as he poured their cups.

 

Hermione was a little awestruck, but she managed to reply, “Yes, please. Two cubes.” He handed her her tea, and she sipped it thoughtfully. If you’d told her two years ago she’d be sitting in Malfoy Manor having tea with Draco, she’d have laughed until she cried and then hexed you for good measure. What a strange turn her life had taken recently…

 

Hermione was lost in her thoughts when she heard Draco chuckle. She looked up quizzically at him, and he sat his cup down. “Sorry,” he said. “I just remember you talking a lot more when we were in school. You seem to have mellowed somewhat since then.”

 

“War does that to people,” she said, harsher than she meant it. Draco’s amused expression turned hard. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded! I just mean that the war changed all of us – we’re all different because of it,” she rushed out. Draco visibly relaxed somewhat and let out a small sigh. “No argument here,” he said quietly.

 

“So what questions do you have for me today?” he continued, signaling the end of that conversation and the beginning of their official business.

 

Hermione suddenly remembered her purpose, but she had one more comment before they began. “First, thank you very much for the book. That was very thoughtful of you,” she said sincerely. Draco’s ears tinged a little pink, and he nodded. “You’re quite welcome,” he said quietly, with a bit of a sly grin. “Besides, I figured I might have to sweeten the cauldron for you to keep working with me. What better way than a new text book?” She snorted. “Bribery…I should have known,” she teased. They smiled easily at each other for the briefest of moments before Hermione cleared her throat and began.

 

“I’ve reviewed the reports you submitted this month, and all seem to be in good order. I do have some other questions about your life and your plans for the future,” she began. With that, she launched into her long list of questions she’d been collecting since their last meeting.

 

What was he planning to do when the probation was up? Would he stay at the Manor or move out to his own flat? He’d have full access to his family money at that time – would he continue to work? If so, would he continue with the ad agency, or did he have any other professional passions to pursue? What did he do with his spare time? Did he like to travel? What places did he intend to go? What people from Hogwarts did he still keep in touch with? Before she knew it, they’d been talking for several hours, and her stomach rumbling made her look up at the clock.

 

“Oh!” she nearly yelled, startling him. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long!”

 

Draco looked at the clock, too, and laughed. “Yes, your questions are much more…thorough…than Auror Jones’ were.” He gave her a wry smile, and she feared he might have realized that some of her questions had a lot more to do with her own curiosity than his probation case. Feeling a serious blush creep up her neck, she busied herself with packing her things.

 

“Yes, well, I do pride myself on doing a complete job,” she sniffed.

 

“Of course,” Draco said, but he still looked more amused than convinced.

 

She stood to go, and not knowing what to do, nodded her head at him awkwardly. “Thank you for the information, Draco. I’ll see you next month.”

 

He stood as well, hands in his pockets, looking a lot more relaxed, and smiled easily at her. “Yes, ma’am. See you next month.”

 

She practically ran out the door and to the apparition point. In the safety of her own flat, she flopped down on her couch. Crookshanks came over to sit on her lap. She let out a huge sigh and pet him. “I just spent most of the day with Draco Malfoy, boy,” she said to him. Crookshanks meowed angrily. “I know,” she replied. “I can’t believe it either…what’s happening to me?”


	4. Chapter 4

*~February 15th, 2000~*

 

The following month went much like the previous one. Hermione found herself dwelling on a certain blond wizard much more than she would have liked. Their conversation in January had been so stimulating, so interesting. She had never really talked to Draco Malfoy before (unless you counted all the insults and assaults), and she was surprised to find him not only intelligent but a great conversationalist, funny, and even quite charming. She knew all along that he could turn on the charm for other people when he wanted, but he’d never used it with her. She found herself easily talking to him, laughing with him, and bantering about various issues.

 

Also like last month, Hermione walked into her office on February 14th to find a present on her desk, this time wrapped in red paper with a gold ribbon. Her heart skipped a beat, and she even neglected the magical diagnostics before ripping into the package. Inside, she found a small box of Belgian dark chocolate truffles, and the same DLM stationery as before. This time, the note read, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Hermione. I hope you enjoy these as much as I enjoyed our chat last month. See you tomorrow. ~Draco”

 

She didn’t know whether it was Draco’s pureblood etiquette that was inspiring these gifts or if he really was trying to bribe her. Surely, he wasn’t so moved by their… conversation?... that he wanted to send these tokens as a sign of appreciation? She found she quite didn’t know how to feel about them.

 

The next day, she was again filled with questions when she arrived at Draco’s office. Upon entering, he stood and greeted her. Suddenly the idea of etiquette as a motivation seemed the most plausible idea. “Thank you very much for the chocolates,” she said shyly. “I really did enjoy them.”

 

Draco smiled. “Good. They’re some of my favorites. Did you have a nice Valentine’s Day?”

 

“Yes, but it’s really nothing special to me. Just another day,” she said, trying to sound indifferent.

 

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. “The Weasel didn’t take you out for dinner at least?”

 

Hermione stared at him with her head cocked to the side. “Ron? No, we’re not together.”

 

Draco looked even more confused. “But I thought…” he began, but Hermione cut him off. “No, not anymore at least. We tried a romantic relationship right after the war, but it didn’t last very long. We’re meant to be friends instead.”

 

“Oh” was all Draco said. There was that awkward silence again. She had to say something to break it. “What about you? Do anything special for Valentine’s Day?”

 

Draco sighed and then gave her the wry smile again. “Absolutely not. Much to my mother’s chagrin. She’s constantly wanting me to date, to settle down, but I can’t stand more than a few minutes with the type of vacuous witch she usually sets me up with. I vehemently refuse to allow that on Valentine’s Day since anything that happens on that day carries more meaning…for some people anyway.”

 

Again, Hermione was surprised at the change in him since school. She thought he rather liked playing the womanizer back then. Maybe she never really knew him at all…

 

“So what’s on the docket for today?” he said expectantly. Hermione estimated that he was looking as much forward to their energetic dialogue as she was. Even though it was a work day, she found herself lost in talking to him for hours, and she didn’t feel guilty about it one bit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger ending for this one! Muahahaha! Don't worry - Hermione is never an idiot for long. :-)

*~March 15th, 2000~*

 

The weeks leading up to Hermione and Draco’s March meeting passed without incident, and she was absolutely NOT disappointed about not hearing from him in between. That would be ridiculous. She was only spending so much time with him for her job, and he was only being polite to her because the war had changed him. He had grown up. He had nice manners due to his breeding, and he needed her to sign off on his probation completion. That was it.

 

If that was it though, then why did each of their meetings take increasingly longer? Why did she leave feeling so energized, and why did she actually miss talking to him in between? And dammit, what had kept him so busy for the last few weeks? It’s not like he was out on the town – she’d made sure to study the Prophet extra well the last month with no mention of him. Surely, he could have at least owled her with a cryptic message in that ridiculously perfect handwriting… Sweet Mother of Merlin, she was in trouble.

 

As much as she tried to be professional, she was admittedly a bit frosty by the time she arrived at Draco’s office. He opened the door for her with a lopsided smile, and she pushed right past him to sit at his desk with only a curt “Draco” as a greeting. She wasted no time getting her quill and parchment out, but when she looked up at him, now across the desk from her, she faltered. He was looking at her with a bemused expression, the lopsided grin slightly lower than before.

 

“How have you been, Hermione?” he asked somewhat tentatively.

 

“Fine,” she replied, raising her chin. “How are you?” she asked, realizing her tone was more clipped than she intended.

 

He tilted his head to the side slightly, studying her. She tried to stare coolly back at him without fidgeting.

 

“I’m doing okay. It’s been a rough month. I had several major campaigns due so I have been pulling 80 hour weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off.

 

“Aw, poor Draco,” she snapped. “Slytherins aren’t used to hard work, are they?”

 

He regarded her for a moment, and then crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose not,” he said. “We prefer to skate by on our family names and stellar reputations.”

 

She flinched at his tone and had to admit he did have dark circles under his eyes. And now the look he was giving her was just as dark. She kicked herself. Why did she have to say that? He was being nice, and now, she had ruined it. A wave of embarrassment and shame crushed her, and she looked down at her notes.

 

“Well…,” she began. “I received all your reports in good order. I don’t have any questions regarding them. Please note that next month will be our last regular meeting, and I’ll present my official recommendation regarding your probation to you at the May meeting.” Like the coward she was, she said all this without looking at him. The silence dragged on for a few minutes, and she slowly looked up at his face. He still wore a hard expression, and his gray eyes could bore a hole into her brown ones. “So I’ll see you in a month,” she said quietly and packed her things to go. She stood and made it almost out the door. He didn’t follow her this time. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned to face him. He was still watching her and cocked one eyebrow at her.

 

“Yes?” he said, coldly.

 

She straightened her spine, gave him a small, nervous smile, and a mumbled “goodbye” before she hurried out of his office.


	6. Chapter 6

*~April 15th, 2000~*

 

Hermione felt like such a prat after her last meeting with Draco. She was so embarrassed she immediately gathered some things at the office and went home to hide in front of the telly under a blanket on her couch. Talking to Crookshanks didn’t prove to be _cat_ hartic enough for her so she owled Ginny to get together for dinner. She had confessed the whole thing later that week at the Leaky Cauldron while Ginny just smiled and shook her head. When she finished, she heaved a huge sigh and covered her face with her hands. Ginny’s snort of laughter caused her to peak through her hands. There the redhead sat, trying to stifle a giggle with her hand over mouth.

 

“What?!” Hermione said exasperatedly.

 

“You made a right arse of yourself, didn’t you?” Ginny said through her giggles.

 

“Ugghhh…I really did. What’s wrong with me?!” Hermione whined.

 

“You’re a girl,” Ginny said simply. “With a major Malfoy crush.” She smiled at her knowingly.

 

“Again, what is wrong with me?! How could I have developed a crush on Draco Malfoy of all people? He’s so… so…” Hermione spluttered.

 

Ginny interrupted, “Charming? Intelligent? Attractive?”

 

“Arrogant,” Hermione decided on.

 

“Ha – that’s true. But you have to admit - other than that, he’s changed a lot. And he sounds like he’s fighting to make his own name in the world. You have to respect that.” Hermione had to admit Ginny had a point there.

 

“What am I going to do? I don’t even know if he’s interested in me like that. How could he be? He hated me until recently.” Hermione sighed again.

 

Ginny looked at her incredulously. “I thought you were the Brightest Witch of Our Age… One part of the Golden Trio, yeah?” Hermione glared. Ginny rolled her eyes. “I seriously doubt he sent Auror Jones a Christmas present and chocolates,” she said as though it was painfully obvious.

 

Hermione considered this for a moment. It was true that she’d never seen mysterious gifts on Albert’s desk. His monthly notes regarding their probation meetings had been bare bones at best. Maybe Malfoy did really enjoy her company…

 

“This is ridiculous!” she said, flustered. “I am his probation liaison. I can’t have a relationship with him outside of that!”

 

“Yes, but his probation is up in a month, right?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows at Hermione suggestively. Hermione couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Okay,” she conceded. “I’ll think about it…”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Ginny said confidently. “Now, if we’re done talking about blonde headed gits, can we please talk about something important? Like my wedding?”

 

After her talk with Ginny, Hermione felt better about…whatever this was with Draco… but she was still a nervous wreck. She started an apology to him a million times, but she Incendio’ed each one. She filled up her schedule with other things to pass the time until their next meeting so she wouldn’t run through potential scenarios any more. She had lunch with Harry and Ron several times. She went on a hike with Luna (who said Hermione was being followed by a particularly large swarm of wrackspurts…), and she had brunch with her parents. She finally made it to the week of the meeting, and threw herself into her job.

 

On Wednesday before the meeting on Saturday (another home visit!), she looked up from her stacks of parchment to see a large, regal looking owl drop an envelope on her desk. She gave the bird a few treats and tentatively opened the card. She knew it was Draco’s stationery, and she held her breath as she read the note. “Hermione, In celebration of our last regular meeting, please join me for dinner at Malfoy Manor at 7 pm. ~Draco”

 

Hermione’s jaw fell open in shock. She must not have been as much of a bitch last meeting as she thought… Or maybe he was just being nice… But was Draco really all that nice? Was it etiquette? Was Ginny right? She shook her head to clear it. Maybe the wrackspurts really were getting to her…

 

The owl was still sitting on her desk staring at her, and she scrawled a quick, “Yes, thank you. See you then. ~Hermione.”

 

She might as well have taken off work the rest of the week for all the actual tasks she accomplished. Though this was technically a work meeting, she felt like she should treat it more like a date and attempted to tame her hair into something slightly calmer than her normal wild mass of curls. Ever the Muggle at heart, she wore a floral printed sundress and ballet flats. It took her about 10 minutes to calm down enough to apparate safely, and when she arrived at the gates to Malfoy Manor, they were already open for her.

 

She walked as quickly as possible and found Daisy the house elf there to greet her at the door. “So good to see you again, Miss Granger,” she squeaked.

 

“Thank you for having me,” Hermione replied politely.

 

“Mister Draco is waiting in the lesser dining room on the second floor,” she said and set off into the house. Again, Hermione kept her eyes trained straight ahead so as not to ruin the evening with her painful memories.

 

The “lesser” dining room appeared to be a rather large dining room to Hermione, and she briefly wondered how big the larger dining room could possibly be. All of that was forgotten when she saw Draco stand to greet her. He smiled at her, but it was tight due to the set of his jaw. She hoped she hadn’t lost the ease they had developed before her strange outburst last month.

 

“Good evening,” he said.

 

“Good evening, Draco. Thank you for inviting me for dinner.” He pulled out her chair, and she sat while he took his own seat on the other side of the table’s corner.

 

He looked down as he put his napkin in his lap and said, “Since this might be our last meeting without any formality, I wanted to make sure you had gotten to know me well enough to make an informed decision going forward.” He looked up at her then. “The last time we met, it seemed like you still had your doubts about me.”

 

Her embarrassment came crashing down on her again, and she looked down to hide the furious flush of her cheeks. “I’m sorry about that…About how I acted last month. You’ve been nothing but forthcoming since I took over from Auror Jones, and you’ve given me no reason to doubt the man you’ve grown to be.” She looked up at him and lost herself in those gray eyes staring straight into her own.

 

After a few beats, he gave her a small smile and said, “Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself. I know we have a lot of history between us, and I would have understood if you never wanted to speak to me again after the war.” He paused and hung his head slightly. “I’ve said so many awful things to you. I stood by and watched my aunt torture you in this house. I don’t even deserve the opportunity to show you that I’ve changed.”

 

Hermione stared at the man before her and felt such a softness for him. She’d never seen him so open. She wondered why he was lowering his defenses now. “I forgave you for all that years ago, Draco. And everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves. I’m thankful to have been given this job where I could witness your transformation firsthand.” He looked into her eyes again, and she saw such relief there it was almost palpable. All the tension in the room melted away, and they stared at each other in comfortable silence.

 

His small smile returned, and he said, “I’m glad to hear that.” As he turned to the table, suddenly their plates and glasses were filled, and they started on their meal. They didn’t talk much, but they enjoyed the newfound companionship between them, each reflecting on how they got to this stage. Ever the responsible one, Hermione felt the need to at least mention this month’s reports from him, and he chuckled good-naturedly. This was a business meeting, after all.

 

After dinner, he raised his wand and silently cast a patronus, giving it a message to prepare dessert in the music room, the wispy creature quickly ran out the door and down the hall.

 

Hermione watched it go in shock and then whipped her head around to face him. “Your patronus is a dragon?!”

 

“Don’t sound so surprised. You know Draco means dragon,” he replied with mock frustration.

 

“Of course, I know that,” she said, “I just always imagined your patronus would be a ferret.”

 

At that, he looked genuinely irritated. “Ha bloody ha,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. Hermione laughed out loud.

 

He let out a sigh and shook his head at her. “Come on, we’re taking dessert elsewhere. I have a surprise for you.”

 

“The music room?” recalling what he had said to his patronus. She was totally confused. Why would they be going there?

 

They walked down the hall, past several more nicely appointed rooms before entering a corner room with thick wood paneling and high ceilings. In the middle of the room on a slightly raised platform of the same rich wood, was a shiny Steinway grand piano. Hermione stopped abruptly to stare at it, but Draco went straight to sit on the bench.

 

“You play piano?” she asked with her mouth agape.

 

Draco chuckled. “What kind of pureblood would I be if I didn’t?” He held out his hand towards her. She just stared. He let out a small sigh and beckoned for her to come sit next to him. She took his hand to step up on the platform, and her heart gave a tight squeeze at the feeling of her hand in his. When she sat down next to him, he gave her a small smile and then moved his long fingers to the keys. When he began playing, she felt her mouth drop open again. She saw the corners of his mouth hitch up as he played. Then, he began to sing. Hermione almost fell off the bench. His gorgeous baritone voice was so smooth and so removed of the snark he usually spoke with, she almost couldn’t believe it was actually him. She recognized the song as one her parents used to dance in the living room to when she was a child.

 

“You give your hand to me  
Then you say hello  
And I can hardly speak  
My heart is beating so

And anyone can tell  
You think you know me well  
But you don't know me

No, you don't know the one  
Who dreams of you at night  
And longs to kiss your lips  
And longs to hold you tight

Oh, I'm just a friend  
That's all I've ever been  
'Cause you don't know me

For I never knew  
The art of making love  
Though my heart aches with love for you

Afraid and shy  
I've let my chance to go by  
The chance that you might love me, too

You give your hand to me  
And then you say good-bye  
I watch you walk away  
Beside the lucky guy

You'll never never know  
The one who loves you so  
Well, you don't know me”

Somewhere during Draco’s song, Hermione closed her eyes. She listened to the piano and the words and let the music fill her up and empty her mind. When he finished, the last note rang undampened in the perfectly engineered acoustics of the room. When she finally opened her eyes, she was surprised to feel tears in them. She turned to look at Draco, and he was watching her. He had that same nervous set to his jaw and after an immeasurable moment, he gently raised one finger to brush away a tear escaping down her cheek. She leaned into his hand.

 

“Hermione…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for all the terrible things in our past. I work every day to be a better man. A man that could hope to deserve you… I know the way I’ve acted and the way you’ve viewed me, and I want to make sure that you know I’m not that man anymore.” He sighed heavily. “I know this might be my last opportunity, and I couldn’t let it pass without telling you.” He clenched his jaw shut again.

 

“I know you’ve changed, Draco, but until a few months ago, I was sure you hated me. You thought I had dirty blood. How can you think so differently of me so quickly?”

 

He pulled his hand away, and she missed the warmth on her cheek immediately. He clenched the side of the bench and shook his head with a sad smile. “I had begun to notice you were much more than your blood long before that. At first, it made me hate you more. You proved over and over again that everything I had been taught was wrong. Then, at the Yule Ball, I was shocked at how attractive you were. I think you got the whole school’s attention that night.” He winked at her. “But so many things were already set in motion. So many plans had been made for me and my family that were out of my control. All of my prejudices finally fell away that day at the Manor. I always sneered at the bravery of Gryffindors, but I’d never seen anything like what you did that day. You refused to give anything away under torture even while I was paralyzed with fear just watching. And I saw you bleed…and it was the same as mine. Your blood and your pain are no different than mine.”

 

At this, Hermione slowly, gently, reached out to touch his face, contorted with their pain. He melted into her hand the same way she had done with him. She leaned forward and kissed his other cheek. He stilled and held his breath. He raised his hand to brush her hair behind her ear and caress her neck, gently guiding her forward. He looked between her mouth and her eyes as he closed the distance between them. The soft touch of his lips sent a spark of electricity through her entire body and warmed her chest. She leaned into him and wrapped both of her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his soft hair at the base of his skull. He continued to kiss her gently, wrapping his arm around her waist until she let out a small sigh, and the sound of it seemed to light a fire in him. He tilted her in his arms and parted her lips to touch his tongue to hers. The passion between them ignited, and he kissed her until they were both breathless. She dropped her head to rest in the bend of his neck, and he roamed his hands lightly over her back, her arms, brushing her hair back from her face. They finally came to rest with one on the small of her back and the other entwined in her hand.

 

Draco kissed her forehead. “Can I interest you in some dessert?” he asked, his voice still husky.

 

It was only then that Hermione noticed a small table and two chairs in one corner of the room with two dessert plates waiting for them.  

 

“I thought this was dessert,” she said shyly, looking up at him through her lashes. At that, he put his finger under her chin to raise her head so he could look her in the eyes. “You _are_ a bright witch…” he mumbled. Then, he tipped her head back and kissed her until no other dessert would ever be the same again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!

*~May 2nd, 2000~*

 

The second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts was still painful. Again, Hermione spent her day off work in the bathtub with her good book and her ice cream, but this time her sad thoughts were tempered by the hope she felt for the future. She and Draco had agreed to wait until his probation was officially over before taking any more steps in their relationship, and she had been anxiously waiting for the days to pass. Today, however, would always be a day for mourning and reflection… and hope she finally decided. Sure, she and Draco had the exciting lure of a new relationship, but there was a greater meaning there. This is what she fought in that bloody war for. Equality. Fairness. New beginnings. She would thoroughly enjoy these spoils and what they meant for the wizarding world.

 

*~May 15th, 2000~*

 

Hermione spent a long time getting ready the morning of her last meeting with Draco, but this time, it was for a different reason. She hoped he would officially ask her out for the first time, and she wanted to look nice. She floo’d to his office and had to pace herself not to run to his door. Again, as she raised her hand to knock, the door flew open, causing her to gasp in surprise. This time, though, a hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist pulling her into the room and pushing her up against the now closed door.

 

“Hi,” Draco said simply as he leaned against her, one hand brushing back her wild hair, and the other bracing himself on the door frame by her head.

 

“Hi,” she whispered breathlessly. “Excited to see me?”

 

He gave a deep chuckle and leaned further into her. “That depends…what are your findings?” he purred right by her ear. His breath was warm on her neck, and she shivered all over. He seemed to like that.

 

“Umm…” she was having a hard time organizing her thoughts when he was distracting her thusly.

 

He dipped his head to run his nose down the length of her neck and whispered, “Spit it out, Granger. I don’t have all day…” She shivered again, and smacked his shoulder with a huff.

 

He laughed and pulled back slightly so they were eye to eye. She glared at him. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

 

“It is my official opinion that you are reformed and have served your probation appropriately. I have presented my findings to the Wizengamot, and they agree that your probation has been completed,” she rushed out.

 

He swooped his long arms forward to wrap around her waist picking her up off the ground and twirling her around. They were both laughing like bloody fools when he put her down. He kept one arm around her waist and buried the other hand behind her neck in her curls. He looked down at her with the biggest smile she’d ever seen him wear. “Hermione Granger…” he kissed her nose. “Would you be interested…” he kissed her cheek. “In accompanying me for dinner tonight?” he kissed her other cheek. Already breathless, she whispered, “I’d love to…” His smile grew even larger, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead as he hugged her tightly to his chest. He loosened his grip slightly so he could reach her mouth, and Hermione dropped her bag with a clatter to clasp her arms around his neck and lose herself again in his kisses.

 

EPILOGUE

 

*~May 2nd, 2001~*

 

The third anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts found Hermione in a hot bubble bath again. This time her book was replaced by something rather longer and lankier. And much less quiet.

 

“How long do we have to stay in here?” Draco whined. Hermione opened her eyes and glared at him. She looked at the clock. “We’ve only been in for 5 minutes. This is supposed to be relaxing. And quiet!” She leaned her head back to close her eyes again. Draco tickled her foot under the water beside him, and she shot up, raising above the warm bubbles into the cold air.

 

“Well, that certainly improves the view…” he drawled, raising an eyebrow at her and pointedly looking at her chest. She raised her own eyebrow at his shameless gawking and then slapped the water to spray his face with bubbles.

 

“What the hell, Granger?!” he spluttered, wiping his eyes, and she laughed. Slowly, almost in a prowl, she crawled over to lay beside instead of across from him.

 

“When are you going to stop calling me that? You know that’s not my name anymore…” she whispered in his ear. She trailed her hand from his shoulder down to his finger to tap the wedding band on his hand.

 

All of his irritation at her splashing water into his face was suddenly gone. “Hermione…” he whispered into her ear. “Draco…” she whispered back, walking her fingers across his stomach, relishing in the way his muscles contracted when she did that. “You still think I don’t know you? You love this…”

 

His eyes met hers, and his gaze was suddenly intense. “I love _you_ ,” he said. She put all her love in her responding kiss.

 

*~FINITE~*


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